On the eve of Christmas eve...our little family present

It was one of those windy, old country roads that got lost over the past 60 yrs. You know, the kind that has ancient scraggly, trash trees hovering over the edge of the road. With branches all gnarled as if arthritis has overtaken their limbs. And as I moved along from one corner to the next on the road, dark shadows followed me, with little lighted lines every so often where a weed got through the black top.

I was nerve wracked. The last 2 hours I had hastily zoomed down our little home on the mountain, through the endless freeway construction from our county into the next. Where, I soon discovered that I was to be greeted by more local, city construction. And finally a turn off of State street and onto that back street that would take me to meet him.

I had sincerely been contemplating this idea for a while. And when Seingine had been in hospital for such a long time, (2 weeks) or what seemed like forever to a mother wanting her "baby" home, I knew when I saw Singe hobbling around like a hunched-over, old man that it was exactly the right thing to pull off for a Christmas surprise, on the eve of Christmas eve.

When I pulled into the parking lot, which really wasn't more then one of those graveled side of the road rectangle boxes, I was a little taken back by the small, slightly dilapidated, gray cinder- block building. "Okay", I thought, "this is a place of rescue." "It's a little sketchy looking, but I'm here to just get the boy and get out." "It's just a temporary place for him." But I was also being to question whether finding him so easily and quickly, had been a little bit to good to be true.

As I walked in the old, aluminum screen door, I knew to watch out for the back swing, since that was the same old type of screen door I had at an old 1950's rental home a few years back. And I felt nervous, I really did....this had all transpired the night before. I knew what I wanted, but I wasn't sure if I would find it when I first started looking on the internet. But within a few minutes of searching I had found this place and I had found him. However, it had been late into the night and there was nothing I could do to get more information on him and to be quite honest with you, I kinda put it on the back burner until I got a bee in my bonnet and did something about it. And you know how that goes, when you get that burst of energy to get something done, you go get it done.

It took a couple minutes for the girl, in her early twenties, to come back to the make shift of sorts desk. The ceiling was really low and it had a wet dog smell about the place. I introduced myself because when I called her a few hours back, she knew to expect me. It was strange, I don't know why but I guess I was having one of those "I'm really a mother, doing motherly things" realization at that moment. The girl moved to a back door and I followed her outside to a narrow concrete slab that ran parallel to another smaller building, while its path moved along to the side of the two structures as well. Again, she opened another door, even smaller this time and I followed her it mimicking ducking into a cave with the low ceiling as it was. And so here we were to meet for the first time.

Unfortunately, yet fortunately, a family had asked for their child's family birthday party to be held in the small building earlier in the day, and so the tenants now, were not completely in a socializing mood. But, right in front of my eyes, there was my boy....at least I kept hoping he was mine.

Writings of self-seeding, freely....Cheers!

Okay, let's face it, I do think I am fairly creative person. So, with that in mind, I will admit that I don't really think my so called blog is necessarily ever going to be a consistent genre of posts. Without looking up what modern day dictionary definitions might register blogging as, I'm just going to re-baptize mine as a modern day, technologically powered journal of writings that I come up with.

...hmm, makes me wonder how Mark Twain would have functioned in our time of history. Or even more, would he have been Mark Twain, maybe Sam Clemmons would have been enough of a name and no "pen name" would have evolved.

I've been pestering my dad to write a fictional book for years and years and years. You see the man has a brilliant mind, is an expert in his field and when it comes to writing, technically, he does quite well. And he's written and had published 3 or 4 books and many articles in his career, so he's no stranger to writing. But, the guy is a medieval history professor, so all of his writings are technical, and non-fiction about historical figures or happenings. So that kinda means he lacks a little bit in the creativity department in his writings. And so when I pester him about writing of medieval historical figure into a fictional setting, he says he would love to and then tells me I should do it because he lacks the creative background. And then I chide myself that I should take advantage of his knowledge and do it...but I don't. But I will...someday...but someday better come soon or I know I'll regret it.

So to avoid regretting anything that comes into my brain, I need to start writing more. And I know that my mind can pull up a story for almost anything if I let it. When I was little, I figured out that I could write stories, and I did write several. I also acted out stories with my dolls, stuffed animals or barbies. I read stuff...what does that mean, I don't know...I just like to read whatever really. And I kick myself when I think of how many different ideas of come into my mind and I haven't written them down or the same of a word or saying or comment that sparked the start of a path of words to somewhere...anyway, I came up with a couple new stories last week that I plan to move forward with, that I shared with my dad.

He listened. My dad usually listens, but he is an academic, and so at times he can be intimidating in his reactions..his silence. Yes the saying that "silence is deafening" does ring true with him when I am wanting..no craving, some kind of response from him. Heh, to my surprise he responded with, "Katherine, you need to make sure you write these things down and that you carry a booklet around with you always to write down these ideas you come up with". Wham, bam! Hit me like a ton of rocks..well okay maybe a non-crushing type of rock so as to do no physical damage, but anyway it was finally a psychological stroke of acceptance to my little girl ego. My father, whom I have put on an academia pedestal pretty much my whole life, was seemingly giving me approval ...even more so, he was encouraging my thought process.

So here it goes. Here is my rock-garden of whatever catches my attention. A place where these seeds planted deep, being watered, splitting open, starting to grow with their little roots digging down further into the ground and their foliage popping up towards the light and warmth of the sun, will keep growing and developing into something only Katherine could grow.

I can't remember how to do this anymore!

Oh my..it has been a long while since I did this and blame Facebook! ha ha just kidding

I really forgot about my blog.

Well, Kim reminded me today that I had not blogged for a long while. Wow. So I should probably take a few days and summarize what has happened since May. Not that I have an interesting life, but since this is a blog for posterity sake, here goes.

We finished last school year. All three of us, barely. Yes, Connor received a not totally unexpected lovely letter from his principle letting him know that next year might need a definate new strategy of Connor's part. Love that Connor. Luckily, Connor started changing some of his tune by allowing his love for camping and Scouts to re-emerge into his world.

Sean got a school award for being in the top 10% in the nation in his grade for the national math testing. Way to go my little math wizard! I had no idea that we had started a math obsessed child when we played math games in the car...everything is somehow an equation for Seing. Plus, Sean's spring soccer team played awesome together so his coach decided to invite the team to join an indoor summer soccer league.

And I got to start the summer out being unemployed and yet somewhat hopeful after completing my first year in the new construction management program at U.V.U. I had no idea what was in store for all of us.....especially me.

My boring and elaborate telling of my tale from today.

Oh my Goodness sake.

I really need to get a digi camera so in the future I would be able to use it for proof of places of interest as well as reference in writing the scenes that I experienced. Obviously that way they are vivid in a readers mind with small details that are important but easily forgotten if you don't have someway to permanently save them. My loss. When I was a teen to young adult, I used to never leave without my 35 mm SLR because I knew that if a perfect shot presented itself, I would never get it back if I wasn't prepared.

So with that in mind I have to make do with what I am able to remember in my non-photographic memory. I drove out to the Utah Ashgrove Cement plant today. I got out on my day trip later than I had wanted to by about an hour. It was around 12, noon. I was heading south from UVU towards Nephi and then west on state road 128. Today was really beautiful and I love driving with the wind in my hair, fast, music playing, on roads that are surrounded by ever changing sceneries of endless nature and so that is exactly what I did today. That was it....I was soaking up the setting and it was quite uneventful.

However, just because it was uneventful does not mean it did not bring out a certain sense of adventure in me. I was alone. No kids nagging or fighting in the background. No phones or computers to overtake my focus. I was even fabricating ideas in my nervous mind on how to get my boys out here by ourselves for a camping trip. I say nervous mind, because I over think being alone too much and then scare myself at times when I take the boys by myself places that are unfamiliar. I just need to learn jujitsu or some other Marshal art form, then I wouldn't be such a chicken.

Since the road seemed to show no signs of ending anywhere and literally, no signs of any significant help either as to when or where this plant was, I did wonder if somewhere I might have missed some other turn. But no, just as I was carving the car through another turn, BAM!..there it was right in front of my face. It was gigantic and it looked like a castle gone "communism architecture bad" in its ugliest form. Even better, remember the crude cities in the Lord of the Rings III where Frodo has to sneak among them without "the Eye" seeing him. That was what this plant could have fallen from the pages of, but luckily there were no scary, seething trolls lurking about it.

I got a first rate tour of this interesting production plant. I got to walk up next to a huge long tube that inside of it burned rocks at the unbelievable degree of 2500 Fahrenheit. Though it was slightly breezy outside, standing next to the heat that the pipe gave off was unbearably hot and I would not stay next to it for long. My guide, the plants production engineer, explained to me that police departments from across Utah Valley actually come down there and bring sensitive documents etc. to be incinerated there because of the heat they are able to produce.

After the tour I was ready to head home and take up the roll of mom again. So I was off and enjoying my car ride once again.

Then without blinking, there it was BANG, PLANK, PUT, PUT, PUT...stop. Right in the line of my tires approach a big ole brown rock sat on the freeway. I saw it and there was no time to move my car fast enough. Though I tried to swerve, the rock blew my front passenger tire and lucky for me I didn't hit another passing car. I was able to get to the side of the freeway and as luck would have it, I had just passed the Spanish Fork exit and was now on the side of the freeway entrance lane.

But sometimes however stupid a decision it may be, your will to survive overtakes anything else that might pop into your mind in similar situations to this one. There I was alone, several miles from the next off ramp, turned the wrong way from the previous exit, without a cell phone since I have been without one now for a year and in no mood to get out of my car and try to hail someone over to help me. So instead I started to drive slowly on a popped tire, with a bent rim that was doomed to a worse fate because of my persistent desire to keep driving toward some kind of eventual help.

I saw the sign for the next exit, which posted 5 more miles. "You've got to be joking!" But up ahead I could also see that the emergency outside lane was being cut off because construction barrels were aligned along the roads edge. Ugh!, another obstacle. "Ah come on already. Enough is enough." As I approached this area, there was a hill and I knew there was no way to go around the barrels and up it without getting thrown out into ongoing traffic. I scanned beyond the barrels and noticed that although no construction equipment was moving, I did see several regular pick up trucks parked behind some concrete barriers. So I made a quick decision to turn off through the barrels and head toward those trucks in hope that I would find some construction person to help me.

And with some definite luck from above, three guys were walking towards me. When the first guy was within shouting distance, I asked him if he would let me use his cell phone. He said "yes", but I realized quickly that I had no clue who I would call to "rescue" me. So I asked him if he knew how to change a tire and he said yes and I asked him if he would be able to help me. He politely let me know that he couldn't do it because he was late for something else already. But the two guys behind him heard my plea and offered to do it for me, unfortunately the former guy stated that they didn't have time 'cause they were riding with him.

Brilliantly one of the two guys who offered to help asked me for a trade. If I could give them a ride into downtown Provo to their employers office, then they could stay and change my tire. It may sound naive and dangerous in idea, but the guy that offered the solution also chimed in that if I didn't feel comfortable with that idea, that I should not feel obligated to do it. However, since I had approached them and the first guy who had driven them was still there and involved in our conversation (because he too needed to know their plans, so if to drive them back to the office or not) I felt comfortable in the situation and I didn't worry that there would be any trouble if I drove them back to their employers office. So they helped me greatly by quickly changing my tire and then they humbly accepted my apologies for my garbage strewn indoor car decor and we were off to get them where they needed to be.


And in retelling this, I have to relay to you what my instructor/professor told me in an email today after hearing from me on my trip because the trip was for his class. My professor is definitely one of my most favorite people in the world. I am his T/A this semester. He listens to all my war stories and is full of wisdom and knowledge whenever I ask him for advise. So this is what he replied
"Katherine, Glad you enjoyed the tour. You sometimes have the worst luck, but I am still praying for you. Things are funny sometimes, but costly. ....Good luck. Jim".

So with a noble and good man like him praying for me and other friends who have seen me through a challenging school year with their thoughts, prayers and actions, even though the mire may be constant in my life right now, I've got lots of blessings overpowering the adversity and guiding me through it all. And to top it off with a little whip cream and cherry, I most definitely am glad for the humor I do see in all my day to day quirky adventures in this, the"this-is-the-life-Miss-Katie-Marie" for you and your crew. Ha, ha, ha...what a day.

my own little world

As a teen most likely sensing the loss of friends due to moving, college, jobs, missions or just changing opportunites, I used to think of how fun it would be one day to have a little town of friends. Obviously it was a comfort thing...fear..a psychosis set up from past experiences. But even still how almost magical would it be to make your own living creation.

Here are a few things I would do: I am drawn in this scenario to a small, snow drenched village. Soft powery snow that gently cuddles the streets...yet mild temperature, not bitter cold.

In this town everyone would be able to do jobs they enjoyed, of their picking of course. So my guess is based on the surroundings, a lot of people would be working from their homes so the atmosphere would be one where friends would be found quite often enjoying themselves outside.

To be continued>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.

GO JEN GO!!!!!!

Ride Hard!

You are so awesome!!! ...and you're gonna kick some...____! (take a wild guess)

http://pages.teamintraining.org/sf/solvang09/jpixton